There's just sumn about good 'ol down home soulful love that can kick you right out of a borderline depression spiral, with quickness.
A few weeks back, I was missing my family down south in Georgia (my new found family), and had been on the edge of depression for a few days. I could feel it and taste it. Believe me when I say that I could taste it, because I literally get this nasty taste in my mouth when I know its gonna be a bad day.
In order to curb that enthusiasm (lol) - I have found ways to nip it in the bud with a simple phone call to someone I love, because I know they gon say or do something that will snap me back to reality real quick. They don't play down south.
My mother and my "poppa" live in Columbus, GA. They are real true down home folk. My "poppa" is a large brotha, who can dress his butt off and walks around with this huge stogie in his mouth (which he rarely lights, but chews on). He has this deep guttural voice and drawls his words with a southern twang that is quite intoxicating. I simply love to sit and listen to him talk.
Sometimes when I call to talk to my mom, poppa will pick up the phone and I can catch him in a sleep-like daze (he sits in his large recliner and dozes, or um, cough..... rests his eyes). I like to mess with him when he is like that. I will ask for someone else and poppa will say with this mean mug (I can see it now) "Joe Blow don't live round here" and I crack the hell up.
This particular morning was prime. I call, poppa answers, I ask for Walter. Poppa inquires "Walter who?" I retort "Payton." Poppa states with clarity "Walter Payton don't live round here!" There is a dead silence. Then I say "well, let me speak to my mama." Poppa (who has now regained consciousness) says to me "Jackie, girl, I'm gon cut yo thoat (he does not say throat, but rather drawls the word THOAT). I am sitting in the B.P. parking lot waiting to get my caffeine fix on and I am hollering so loud people begin to stare at my car. I said "Poppa, I love you so much" and he said "you too babe." By the time I got to speak to my mama, it was time to go (she hates that, when poppa and I do our exchange before she gets a chance to speak to me, its that jealousy thang, yanno). Anyway, I told her I love her and that I would call her back later. I began to tell her about how depressed I was feeling up until 5 minutes ago, and she said I didn't need no therapist, they could handle my depression anytime. LOL
This I know for sure.
A few weeks back, I was missing my family down south in Georgia (my new found family), and had been on the edge of depression for a few days. I could feel it and taste it. Believe me when I say that I could taste it, because I literally get this nasty taste in my mouth when I know its gonna be a bad day.
In order to curb that enthusiasm (lol) - I have found ways to nip it in the bud with a simple phone call to someone I love, because I know they gon say or do something that will snap me back to reality real quick. They don't play down south.
My mother and my "poppa" live in Columbus, GA. They are real true down home folk. My "poppa" is a large brotha, who can dress his butt off and walks around with this huge stogie in his mouth (which he rarely lights, but chews on). He has this deep guttural voice and drawls his words with a southern twang that is quite intoxicating. I simply love to sit and listen to him talk.
Sometimes when I call to talk to my mom, poppa will pick up the phone and I can catch him in a sleep-like daze (he sits in his large recliner and dozes, or um, cough..... rests his eyes). I like to mess with him when he is like that. I will ask for someone else and poppa will say with this mean mug (I can see it now) "Joe Blow don't live round here" and I crack the hell up.
This particular morning was prime. I call, poppa answers, I ask for Walter. Poppa inquires "Walter who?" I retort "Payton." Poppa states with clarity "Walter Payton don't live round here!" There is a dead silence. Then I say "well, let me speak to my mama." Poppa (who has now regained consciousness) says to me "Jackie, girl, I'm gon cut yo thoat (he does not say throat, but rather drawls the word THOAT). I am sitting in the B.P. parking lot waiting to get my caffeine fix on and I am hollering so loud people begin to stare at my car. I said "Poppa, I love you so much" and he said "you too babe." By the time I got to speak to my mama, it was time to go (she hates that, when poppa and I do our exchange before she gets a chance to speak to me, its that jealousy thang, yanno). Anyway, I told her I love her and that I would call her back later. I began to tell her about how depressed I was feeling up until 5 minutes ago, and she said I didn't need no therapist, they could handle my depression anytime. LOL
This I know for sure.
posted by Jaxkat @ 7:27 AM
1 Comments:
Ahhh, Mommas and Poppas. They're the salt of the earth, I tell 'ya!
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